I Am Legend
by DreamBrother
Summary: From deep within the twisted mind of yours truly, I present to you a rather long oneshot. [Be warned, for here be dark themes]


**Disclaimer:**I own nothing of consequence.

**A/N: **The story has nothing to do with the novel by Matheson; I just loved the title, for all that it sounds pretentious, and I needed one for this fic. But incidentally, both take place in LA.

Also, this is a potential death fic. I say potential 'cause half the fun is in the not knowing :-)

Eternal gratitude to **s****haolingrrl** for declaring this to be fit for public consumption.

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**I Am Legend**

"Are the accommodations to your liking, Professor Eppes?" asked the man with the Irish accent. Receiving only a raised eyebrow in reply, he reached forward and pulled the duct tape from his captive's mouth. "Sorry about that. Having me a little blonde moment. So?"

"You've tied me to a chair," replied Charlie sourly, "How comfortable can it possibly be?"

"Look at the bright side, Professor; you could have been hanging by your wrists now, couldn't ya?"

"Why am I here?" questioned Charlie, trying his best to seem unafraid and calm, for all that his heart was beating a mile a minute.

"Let's not jump the gun, hm?" suggested the man as he pulled up a chair next to Charlie's and sat down. Checking his watch, he said, "Your brother should be here any minute now, and then we'll have ourselves a nice chat."

"What's that in your hand?" asked Charlie, curious.

"This?" The man held up a small black device. "Just a little something something. Relax, the fun doesn't start till your brother arrives. But until then, I'm afraid we'll get a mite bored." Taking a look around, he said, "Wished I'd thought of providing some pre-entertainment amusement, you know?" Pointing to one of the walls, he added, "Here'd be a good place to set up a projector, watch a movie. Do you like movies, Professor?" Receiving no reply, he mused, "Aye, you're probably a bit testy right now, me bringing you all the way here, against your will and all. That's alright, I can talk enough for the both of us, and you can listen. Feel free to join in whenever you please."

"Have I met you before?" asked Charlie.

"Me? No, no, not at all. And you won't again for the rest of your life. This is a one-time thing. Besides, wouldn't you remember an Irish man?"

"You could have changed your accent," accused the restrained genius.

"Nah, been there, failed that. One of the reasons why I didn't become a spook, you see. I wouldn't stand out on home soil, but anywhere else and it'd be a dead giveaway, my accent. It's the R's, I tell you, they're murder. Spent a fortune on speech therapists, but nada. And my brother, man, he won't let me forget it. Of course, you'd know all about that, wouldn't ya, professor?" He started tapping his foot, and murmured: "What I wouldn't give for a Game Boy or something. Oh, by the way, call me Calum."

"Is that your real name?"

"Does it matter?"

"Should it?"

"Em…Not really."

"Ok, Calum, tell me why you've brought me here," demanded Charlie.

"You sure are feisty for a math professor, I can tell ya that."

Charlie bit back his frustration, which covered his fear. "What do you want with my brother?"

"What makes you think I want anything from him?" asked Calum a bit distractedly as he stared off into the distance, precariously balancing his chair on its back legs.

"You've abducted me, brought me here, and now you're waiting for him. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Is it ransom? Or revenge of some sort?"

"Don't be such a cliché, man," chided Calum, "There's more to life than that, you know. You need to get out more. Hey, have you ever been to Ireland?"

"You don't answer my questions, I don't answer yours."

"That's alright. There's not much about you and your family I don't know already." Standing up, Calum walked about the large room. "You know, abandoned warehouses might be great for all this jazz and all, but really, it's quite boring until the fun begins."

"Prisons are livelier, why don't you turn yourself in?" suggested Charlie.

Calum smirked and stood in front of Charlie, leaning down until his faces was inches away from Charlie's.

"Professor, Professor, Professor. You really mustn't judge a man so harshly, especially a man you hardly know. After all, the only thing I've done up till now is hold you against your will. Tell me, other than that little hiccup, have I mistreated you in any way?"

Charlie had to concede the point. When Calum had walked into his office some indeterminate period of time ago, Charlie hadn't suspected a thing.

_Charlie had been sitting in his office__ quietly reading the plethora of inter-departmental memos that accumulated at a speed to be __reckoned with__. He was also multi-tasking in the sense that at the same time, he was thinking of all that needed to be done for the house, including calling a repairma__n__, their TV was acting up._

_"E__xcuse me, Professor Eppes?" called out__an unfamiliar, lilting__ voice, and Charlie looked up to __see a __man in his __late twenties to early thirties __with boyishly good looks __standing at the door __poking his head in._

_"That's me__," confirmed Charlie. The man took __this as invitation enough and __walked in, closing the door behind him. "Can I help you?"_

_"Actually, yes, y__es you can."_

_When the man failed to elaborate, Charlie's brow quirked in puzzlement.__ "I'm sorry, but are you a student here?" He doubted it__ though. If the person in front of him had been a part of the university, he would have remembered, if only because a) half the student population would have been infatuated with __this __man and b) his accent was hard to miss. You didn't see many Irishman around, and the man in front of him seemed to be a native._

_The man smiled. __"Nah, not at all.__ I'm not one for formal education."_

_"Then what can I help you with?"_

_"You can come with me, Professor, easily and quietly." There was a subtle shift in the man's demeanour that had Charlie take a step back. _

_"Come where?"_

_"Nowhere important, just a nice__ out of the way place where your brother can come __meet__ us and nobody __will __be around to disturb us."_

_"What does my brother have to do with this?__ Or better yet, what do __I__ have to do with this?__" Charlie tried to think of anything he might use to defend himself. Chalk was out of the question; darts would be insufficient. He wondered whether chucking the Rubik's cube at the man's head would provide enough of a distraction for him to run…_

_"We'll worry about that later, yes?"_

_"What makes you think I'm going to go __anywhere __with you?"_

_"Because, Professor," the man slipped a hand inside his pocket, "I have a nice little grenade which I can always __chuck__ into a crowd of students." He waved the __little __green explosive around, one finger curled around the ring. "Is that enough of an incentive for you?" To top it off, he smiled, as though he wasn'__t talking about mass murder. _

_Seeing the Professors __resigned __to his plan, he said, "Grand. Now that we've got __that __little bit of nastiness out of the way, can you hand me your cell-phone, please?"_

_Silently, Charlie handed it over, relieved that the grenade was back in the man's pocket. _

_"Your brother, he __be__ which speed dial?"_

_"Five."_

_"Five? Who in the world ranks above him on the speed dial?" asked the man __reproachfully._

_"Five is __center__ of the keypad. It's easier to dial."_

_"Ah. Smart. Now try not to make too much background noise while I talk to him, yes? __Excellent__"_

_Pressing the speed dial, the Irishman put the phone to his ear and started speaking, Charlie only hearing __his__ side of the conversation:_

_"Is this Agent Eppes speaking? __As you must have noticed, I'm calling from your brother's phone. Charlie here is a bit busy at the moment but__ I just wanted to let you know that I'm abducting your brother here, and if you want to get him back, I've left instructions in his office. When you come, try__ not to break the door down, yeah__? Tak__e the key fro__m Maintenance.__Excellent.__ See you in a few." Hanging up, the man powered off the cell-phone and tucked it into __his pocket. Reaching a hand inside his jacket, he took out what looked like a __greeting card with a shamrock on__ the front cover. _

_"I always find it so disappointing __when __kidnappers resort to such coarse and bloody methods as leaving a finger or something as a calling card. If you're going to have a family run around trying to save their loved one, at least the invitation must be nice. Now we leave this here," he placed the card on Charlie's desk, "and you grab your jacket, __lock the door and we're off."_

_All in all, with Charlie's compliancy guaranteed__ by a bit of insurance__ in the shape of a grenade__, the actual abduction was quite peaceful. They had made it to Charlie's small blue car without inc__ident, and once they were a few minutes away from the university, Calum had Charlie pull over onto a quiet road where they exchanged seats and Calum handed Charlie a pill__ saying:_

_"Don't worry, Professor, it's only a sedative. Either you have this, or I chloroform you, which has the nasty side effect of you waking up __with__ a headache. And people with headaches always act pissy and I'd like to avoid that. __Go on, then." _

Hence, here sat Charlie, in a large warehouse devoid of anything except a table or two, a few chairs, lights and markings on the ground which he paid no attention to. Plastic cuffs saw his wrists and feet secured to the chair's arms and legs.

Bringing himself back to the present, Charlie re-focused his thoughts to listen to what his kidnapper was saying:

"- I mean, the books are good, I grant ya that, but you can't beat the movies. Especially when Connery played Bond. I really should be for Brosnan, him being a fellow countryman and all, but there's no-one like Connery. Don't you agree, Professor?"

"You have me brought me to the middle of nowhere and tied me to a chair for reasons you won't explain, you're waiting for my brother for God knows what, and you expect me to talk about who was the better Bond with you in the meantime?" asked Charlie incredulously.

"Well, I could always start burning you with fags if that better suits your notions about the norms of behaviour of a kidnapper," offered Calum. "Lighten up, man, you're killing the atmosphere."

Deciding it would be best if he just kept his mouth shut, Charlie said no more, instead trying to fruitlessly slip his hands from the restraints, and trying not to think of the worst case scenarios of what could happen in the near future. One small comfort was that Don would not be coming alone, but with a small army. He could almost feel sorry for Calum, who clearly had no idea who he was going up against, were it not for the fact that Charlie was too petrified to allow any other feelings in.

Suddenly, a grin spread across Calum's face, and he asked, "Do you hear that, Professor? I think your brother is here." Reaching out a hand, he fiddled with something at the back of Charlie's chair and try as he might, Charlie couldn't tell what he was doing. "Notice, Professor, the specifics of the room. No windows, so no snipers ruining my fun. One entrance, all the way over there," he pointed to the door directly in front of them, some 70 feet away. "Plenty of distance your brother will have to cover to get near us. And he daren't shoot me on sight, if he knows what's good for him. And you," Calum added as an afterthought.

"Tell me, Professor, are you nervous?"

"Should I be?" asked Charlie, although it was easy to tell from his voice.

"I'd advise it, yes, but on the bright side, all you have to do is sit tight, it's out of your hands," replied Calum, as a diabolical smile lit his face, and the door in front crashed open.

"Welcome, Agent Eppes," Calum called out. "I'm glad you can finally join us. Traffic wasn't too bad, I hope? Now if you'd just stand behind that little red line, I'd be much obliged," he said, pointing to one of the lines on the floor that Charlie had noticed, but dismissed.

Don, clad in a tactical vest and his gun pointed at Calum's head, was alone. Coming to a stop a bare centimetre behind the red line, his eyes did not waver from Calum's except for a quick look at his brother. Ignoring Calum, he first asked:

"Charlie, you alright?"

"Considering…yeah, I guess," replied Charlie nervously.

"He's fine, I'm fine, we're all fine," butted in Calum, "Although you, Agent Eppes, need to relax. And you better put that gun down."

"And why should I do that?" asked Don.

"You see this little device here?" Calum waved the black object in his hands which Charlie had asked about earlier on. "Dead mans' switch, I'm sure you heard of those. I've attached a wee bit of C4 to the back of your brother's chair. My fingers let this go, and your little brother here goes boom." Calum smiled as he finished this informative speech, the rising fear in the Eppes men very perceptible, although the elder brother hid it better.

Still, Don did not lower his weapon. "If he dies, so do you."

"And is that supposed to bother me, Agent Eppes?" asked Calum calmly.

"How do I know this isn't a bluff?" asked Don.

"How do you know it is?" retorted Calum. "Feel free to shoot me; it's only the Professor's life on the line, after all." For a moment, it seemed as though Don would have liked nothing better than to put one in the Irishman's brain, but as his eyes flickered to Charlie, he thought the better of it. Taking reign of his anger, he lowered his weapon, effectively giving Calum his co-operation.

"Now, I suggest you tell your band of friends outside to stand down, and to not enter under any circumstances. You never know, they might startle me and whoops, my fingers slip. That'd be a tragedy, wouldn't it?"

"I like it when things go my way," said Calum to Charlie with a smile as Don relayed the message. Once he was done, Calum continued, "Excellent. Now if you'd be so kind as to remove your comms, I'm not keen on having any eavesdroppers around. And disassemble your gun and chuck the pieces away while you're at it."

"Don, don't. You should leave," spoke up Charlie, mustering his courage, although his eyes kept on flickering back and forth between his brother, and the switch in Calum's hands.

"That'll certainly be an interesting turn of events, won't it?" mused Calum

"Don't be ridiculous, Charlie," replied Don, as he threw half of what used to be his service weapon to his left, and the other half to his right.

"Who are you?" asked Don.

"Well, I could say my parents decided to have fun by naming me Neilan O'Neil, but let's not get into that at the moment. Call me Calum."

"Ok, Calum, what the hell do you want with my brother?"

"Actually, this is a buy one, get one free, kinda situation," informed Calum, "I get two brothers for the price of one. Ain't that grand?"

"What. Do. You. Want?" gritted out Don.

"Plain and simple? I want to be entertained. You see, me Mam, God rest her soul, was a modern day Scherezade. When she started to tell you a story, you were hooked until she decided to let you go. And this was for more than a thousand and one nights, trust you me. And all those stories, legends, what heroes were made of, it really gets into your head, you know? Anyway, after half my family found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time a few years ago, I decided to do a bit of travellin'. I'm a people person, you see, so I get to meet all kinds this way. Have some fun with them, too." He straightened up suddenly and with a cheery tone, declared: "Congratulations mateys! You're the lucky ones this year."

"You're crazy," said Don before he could help himself.

"Nah, just Irish," quipped Calum. "What, you don't think there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?"

"You're a killer, aren't you?" asked Charlie.

"Well," began Calum, "Death _is_ sometimes a side effect of my work, but it doesn't bother me much, either way. And it pays the bills. You ever killed a man, Professor?" Charlie shook his head. "You're missing out."

"Why us?" asked Charlie.

"Well, I was kinda getting bored with the Average Joes. Very disappointing, all the lot I've met. So I thought I'd go after a copper, poke the beast, kinda. Imagine my surprise when I hear about this federal agent with a math professor of a brother, who helps him out regularly. I mean, nobody at home will believe me when I tell 'em. By the way, I've been meaning to ask, do you offer family discounts when you consult for your brother?" He directed this question to Charlie. When Charlie didn't bother replying, he turned to Don and said, "Your brother isn't very chatty, is he?"

"Let my brother leave, then the two of us can talk as long as you like," suggested Don.

"That kinda defeats the purpose of bringing both of you here, don't ya think?" pointed out Calum. By this point, Don's frustration was getting the better of him and had him unconsciously stepping closer and closer, which led to Calum adding: "Careful there now, Agent. The closer you come, the more nervous I get. And a nervous me leads to sweaty, slippery hands and I'm not sure your little brother here will appreciate that."

"I'm beginning to think you brought us here for nothing," said Don.

"I think your brother is getting tired of me," said Calum to Charlie in a stage whisper, making Don glad he had been forced disassemble his weapon, because he wouldn't have been able to stop himself shooting this psycho had a gun been within reaching distance. "Would you like me to cut to the chase?" he asked Don.

"Yes," came the clipped reply.

"It's like this: You want your brother out of here and I personally don't care who leaves this place in a body bag. Since I _am_ human, I have to act on my instinct of self-preservation a wee bit, so I can't do you the favour of shooting myself, which makes you, Agent Eppes, the expendable one." Charlie had barely opened his lips to protest this vehemently when he suddenly found tape covering his mouth once again, and Calum adding: "Sorry Professor, but one of the tragedies in life is that no-one listens to the youngest. Trust me, I know."

"So you shoot me, let Charlie go, and just walk out of here?" asked Don, unconvinced.

"Oh, yeah, forgot about that. You tell your people out there that when I _do_ come out, if they try to stop me or follow me in any way, I'm afraid your Dad is gonna be meeting his wife a lot sooner than he thinks." Calum smiled. "Benefits of having a friend in the city. He wanted me to tell you he really liked the house, by the way, sure is a pretty one." For a second, it looked as though Don was about to throw caution to the wind, but Calum holding up with dead man's switch had him bending down and picking up the discarded comms and relaying the new instructions. "Oh, and no specifics, yeah? Can't have LAPD hauling my friend away before I get a chance to escape."

As Don did so, Calum said to Charlie: "Sorry about your malfunctioning telly and all, but my friend had to get in somehow. And no worries, he's actually quite a handy repairman. Plus, your dad won't feel a thing, if it has to turn out that way. I leave, my friend leaves, then you can leave. Shame about your brother though," he added, ignoring the silent tears streaming from Charlie's eyes, a mixture of fear, panic, and grief.

Don, done talking to a ticked off, worried Megan on the other end, threw away the now pointless comms device.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, let's say we have a little fun?" began Calum, standing up.

"How do I know you won't kill my brother after me?" Don interjected.

Calum paused as he circled Charlie's chair: "You don't. Looks like you're going to have to have a little faith, don't it, Agent Eppes?

"Where was I? Oh yeah, the fun part." Reaching behind him and pulling out a revolver tucked in the waistband of his pants, he continued, "Now. I could just shoot you here, go home. But after doing it so much, it gets pretty boring. So, I thought I'd add a little spice to life. You, Agent Eppes, can shoot yourself. And in honour of our little math professor here," he tapped Charlie on the head a few times, "we can play a little game of probability." He tossed the gun to Don who caught it, and gazed at him warily. Calum continued, "That little six-shooter there only has one bullet loaded. If you're still standing after your third try, we all go home, no harm, no foul.

"So, Agent Eppes, what will it be? It's perfectly within your rights to walk out of here, you know? But it'll have to be without the boy wonder here. Or you can play a little one-sided Russian roulette, it's up to you. But be quick with your decision, yeah? One thing they forget to put on the package is that your hand can really get tired pressing down for so long." He gave the switch a little wave.

Over Charlie's muffled voice, Don said, "Close your eyes, Charlie. Don't see this."

"Ah, so we'll be having a bit of 'From Russia with Love' are we? So, 6 chambers, 1 bullet. Not bad odds, I'd say. I've bet on teams with worse odds. Whenever you feel ready, Agent Eppes."

Don pulled back the hammer on the gun, and taking a deep breath, with one smooth motion, put the barrel to his temple and pulled the trigger.

_Click_

Charlie, who had scrunched up his eyes in fear, heaved a sigh of relief. However, it didn't last long when he heard Calum say above him, "One in five chance, Agent. Feel free to walk away, if you like." And although Charlie knew better, he still hoped that Don would. At the sound of his brother pulling the hammer back again, Charlie quickly squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath.

_Click_

"Now it's one in four eh? And if you're lucky, both of you get to go home. But no pun intended, the third time's the charm, hm?"

The third time _was_ the charm. Even as the sound of the gunshot faded away, Charlie heard nothing else save a roaring in his ears that blocked out every sound, or lack off. He didn't hear Calum leave, nor his parting words. He also failed to notice the lack of the thud that would have indicated a lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

Eyes still tightly shut, and blocking out sounds, he jumped when he felt two hands grab his head, but continued to ignore the voice.

He should have remembered that Don had a knack of getting through to him and making him listen. It took the sharp burn of the tape being stripped away from his mouth to make him open his eyes to a sight lovelier than anything he had ever witnessed in his life.

"Hey, you with me?" asked a smiling Don, wiping away the tears on Charlie's face with the pad of his thumb before he removed his hands from Charlie's head and pulled out a knife.

"Don?" ventured forth an unsure Charlie, his voice shaky.

"In the flesh," replied Don as he cut off the plastic restraints surrounding Charlie's wrists and was about to do the same to those around Charlie's feet when his head was grabbed and he felt Charlie's prying hands covering his temples, looking for the non-existent hole that a bullet would have created, but instead finding the minor wound on the right side of his head, the result of a blank cartridge being fired at close range. He allowed Charlie his ministrations; after all, even he'd been unsure only a few minutes ago whether he was alive or dead.

"It's okay, Charlie. The bullet was a blank. I think I'll be a bit deaf in my right ear from now on, but other than that, no lasting da-." Don didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as two arms went around his neck in a vise-like grip that would have made any snake proud. Of course, he'd deny later on that he did the same to his brother. After all, who would notice the bruises around Charlie's back anyhow?

Tears continued to stream silently from Charlie's eyes, a result of relief at what was, and grief at what could have been, his brother's attempt to console him by rubbing his back only making him hug Don tighter. His mind slowly kicked into gear and a thought entered his head which had him suddenly pulling back:

"Don, the bomb!"

"It's ok, it's been disabled, there's nothing to worry about. And don't worry about Dad. If that asshole didn't kill us, I highly doubt he's going to go after Dad. An LAPD unit should be reaching him in about five minutes; it'll be enough time for the friend to get away."

Charlie barely registered the fact that the door behind Don had crashed open to a swarm of agents, at the head of which was his brother's team. Quickly slicing through the last of the restraints, Don took Charlie by the forearms and helped him stand, holding on until he could be sure Charlie wouldn't collapse on his feet, shaking as much as he was.

"You ok?" asked Don, peering carefully at his brother, concern for Charlie allowing him to put his own thoughts far behind him for the moment. To say that his still standing, very much alive, hadn't rattled him would be an understatement:

_The sound of the gunshot filled the air. Eyes still closed, Don wondered how it was possible that his ear still hurt when he should have been dead.__ And his head should be hurting a lot more if a bullet had just entered it.__ A memory came to the forefront of his mind, something an instructor at Quantico had once said: "A bullet travels faster than sound. You'll never hear the gunshot that kills you"_

_But__ Don __had__ heard the gunshot. Opening his eyes, he saw the perplexed expression on his would-be-killer's face, and the bowed head of his brother__ as he hyper-ventilated._

_"__Em__no__ offense but…__why are you still standing?" Calum asked, sounding unsure of himself for the first time._

_"You tell me," said Don, ignoring the__ slight shakiness of his voice, as he threw the now useless weapon onto the floor._

_Realization struck Calum and he smacked his hand against his forehead: "Oh__ fudge! D__on't tell me I __grabbed__ the wrong ammo box again!__ I might have been a wee bit drunk when I did…__ I tell them again and again, __don't__ put the live rounds next to the fancy blank ones, but do they listen?" Shaking his head in disbelief, Calum smiled at Don. "You wouldn't have found a four-leaf clover today by any chance, would you? Cause that's some mighty luck you've got__ going__ on__ there." As __he __reached behind Charlie__'s chair and fiddled with the bomb attached there, he added: "Well, I'm not one to tempt the fates too many times. You did your part; I had fun. Everybody's happy." Standing up straight, he chucked the dead mans' switch to the side. "There, bomb disabled. Now I best be going before something else goes wrong. And I have a feel__ing me friend is having a cup o'__ tea with your dad right about now, so before they turn into best buds I better get him to leave."_

_Walking past Don, he paused: "Who knows, Agent Eppes__, p__erhaps we'__ll meet again?__ I'll be sticking around until__March 17th__. I hear you Americans sure know how to__ be__ Irish on __St. Patrick's Day__. Oh and, tell your brother no hard feelings, yeah? __In fact, go have a few rounds at the pub, send me the bill"__ And with that, he was gone._

Realizing that his brother still hadn't answered his question and was looking paler than ever, Don noticed that Charlie's gaze was pinpointed on something over his shoulder; he followed his brother's line of sight and saw it resting on the discarded revolver. Snapping his fingers in front of Charlie's eyes, he brought his brother to focus on him once again: "Chuck, you ok?"

"Uh… I will be. I think," Charlie replied, although his eyes swivelled back to the weapon that had very nearly ended his brother's life.

"Hey, it's ok," said Don again. Deciding humour was called for, he added, "So, what do you think the chances are of us getting away with not telling Dad about all this?"

**Khatum (The End)

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**First of all, no offense meant towards the Irish, although I don't think I said anything offensive. And the reason I went all Irish for this fic was because I was watching "Jekyll" (Brilliant BBC show, watch it if you can) and James Nesbitt, who is Irish, did an amazing job as the lead. And I was missing two of my old English teachers (both Irish. One always began her class with "Where's me pencil?"). Calum is named after George Best's son.

I took some liberties with the blank cartridge. Normally, at such close range, it should be fatal.

Hope you liked, and remember: Everybody's Irish on St. Patrick's Day:-) Oh and there's a lovely prank call done by an Irish girl on YouTube. Search for "Irish Girl Wants School Destroyed". It's hilarious. Cheers!


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